Yours and Mine
by WiseAbsol
Summary: A collection of Mewtwo and Sabrina ficlets, set in the upcoming "Ours" universe. Ficlet 5 - "He always gets so dour on his birthday, so I wanted to do something nice for him." In short, Natsume and Erika have an interesting conversation of their day out on the town, and Natsume and Mewtwo have an even more interesting conversation afterwards.
1. Silent Night

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pokémon,_ which belongs to: _Nintendo; the Pokémon Company; Creatures; GAME FREAK; TV Tokyo; ShoPro; Jr. Kikaku; Shogakukan Production Co, Ltd.; Satoshi Tajiri;_and _Ken Sugimori._ These companies and the creators rightfully own the franchise. I'm also not earning money from this; I'm merely having fun with a few of their characters.

* * *

**O:O:O**

**YOURS AND MINE**

**Ficlet 1 - Silent Night**

**O:O:O**

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It was Christmas Eve, and though the Kurosawas were not Christians (of them, Natsume was the most religious, since she followed the Way of the Gods), their Academy had many international students who held the holiday in high regard. As such, it only made sense for them, as their hosts, to honor the day as well. If nothing else, coming together to wine and dine, exchange gifts, and be merry for a few hours was always a pleasure. That the Silph Company was willing to sponsor the event (what better way to show off their seasonal wares?) – well, that made the having the celebration all the more tempting.

Ultimately, Kurosawa Manor was thoroughly decorated for the occasion. A sizeable wreath was hung on the front door, silver bells were tied to each of the doorknobs, and the windows were strung up with white lights and fake icicles. The rooms were decked in green and red, with gold and silver ribbons strung up around the light fixtures; boughs of holly were placed in the bathrooms and on the mantles; and Christmas roses were used as the centerpieces for each table. A massive Christmas tree stood in the gathering hall, its branches almost sagging under the weight of all the hand-painted bulbs, the glass and porcelain ornaments, and the ropes of tinsel, popcorn, and colored lights. The crystal star that topped it off shimmered entrancingly, casting rainbows onto the ceiling. Presents for the Secret Santa exchange clustered at the base of the pine – and from the size of the pile, that event alone would take an hour or two.

On the tables nearby were appetizers and chilled pitchers of eggnog, with tins of sugar cookies and ginger snaps set among the arrays. The real meal was still being prepared by the Mrs. Kurosawa Senior and some of her friends. The last time they'd tried to make a turkey had ended in disaster, so this year they were making batches of fried chicken as the main course. There would also be bowls of roasted chestnuts and cranberry sauce, fruit cakes and plum pudding, biscuits and glazed ham, and an array of vegetables dishes, including corn, potatoes, and yams. Overall, the Western foods were heavier than what most of them were used to, but if their students had taught them anything, it was that they'd _eat anything _if given the chance.

The smells of this feast were wafting throughout the house, and along with them drifted the verses of popular Christmas carols. Though few in the manor could understand all of the words (it had been years since they'd endured English lessons), the pair upstairs recognized the current song as "Silent Night" and thought it to be rather fitting.

Mewtwo, in the guise of Yuè, was buttoning up his shirt when it began playing. He glanced over at where Natsume sat at the vanity, a smile tugging at his lips. She was in a long, red dress, the waist loose enough to accommodate the considerable swell of her stomach. She'd picked out a gold necklace with a teardrop of garnet falling from it, and was carefully placing in the matching earrings. There was a shawl draped over the bench beside her. Though the hearths were stoked up, they didn't want to risk her catching a chill. He pulled on his vest, which matched the white pants, shirt, and shoes he was wearing. He wasn't certain which tie to go with; Natsume, he was certain, would pick a suitable one. He turned to her with a pair in hand and saw her beginning to brush her hair.

With a widening smile, he stepped up behind her, laying the ties on the vanity in front of her. He then took the brush from her hand, running it through her hair gently, letting the silky strands flow over and through his fingers, coaxing out the tiny snarls. He saw her close her eyes in the mirror, heard her sigh, and watched, with some tenderness stirring in his heart, as she laid a hand on her stomach. She would be giving birth any day now, and their daughter, for her part, seemed just as eager to come out as they were to meet her. She moved more often than not, and when he and Natsume were lying in bed together, he would wrap an arm around her and she would often guide his hand to her stomach so he could feel it. Feeling their child stir tended to have one effect on him: he would nearly melt, cuddling Natsume closer and being humbled by the life they'd made together. He'd whisper words of endearment and felt, more than saw, Natsume smile in the dark.

When he was finished brushing her hair, Natsume opened her eyes and looked at the ties, comparing them to his outfit. When she tried to push herself up, he steadied her by placing his hand beneath the small of her back. She gave him a grateful look and picked up the white tie with silver snowflakes on it. She looped it around his neck, tying it up and tucking it in until it was perfectly in place. Then she reached back to the vanity and picked up a white ribbon with a pair of silver bells on it. She already had a red ribbon with golden bells around her wrist. He let her tie the white ribbon to his wrist and heard the bells chime as he reached out, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She cupped his hand in hers, their fingers intertwining as their hands fell to their sides.

As the doorbell rang, announcing that the first guests had arrived, he gave her a smile and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, "Are you ready?" She smiled and stepped forward, leading him along in answer.

The party went well, though more than one guest, when seeing Natsume up and about, suggested that she find a seat and rest. Natsume, for her part, had taken their comments rather well: she'd frowned and retorted that she'd much rather stand, since not moving was _much less _comfortable, she was tired of being in bed, and the sooner she went into labor, the better (her due date was in a few days, but she was ready _now_, if the baby was willing). If walking around would facilitate that, she'd happily run around the manor. Yuè, for his part, had given those guests an embarrassed and apologetic look and had led her over to Erika. The two friends had spent the evening catching up, with Erika giving Natsume a list of spices that could supposedly help induce labor, "just in case."

It was later that night, after the guests had left and the family had settled down to sleep, that the baby had decided that no, _she _wasn't ready to settle down yet. In fact, she'd been quite determined to raise a fuss. Yuè had awoken to his wife's gasp of pain as she tried to get up – which was no easy feat for her – and had heard her whisper, in equal parts fear, exhilaration, exasperation, and relief, "The baby's coming."

He would later have to thank her parents for driving them to the hospital. Teleportation, after all, was not advised for pregnant women, nor for _anyone_ who's thoughts weren't calm and collected - and Yuè's thoughts were _neither. _He'd remembered to grab the overnight bag, at least, and had sat in the backseat, holding Natsume's hand. He'd maintained a brave face, but she'd felt his palm sweating, so she'd known that he'd been just as nervous as she. She'd given him a sympathetic look, had grimaced in pain as another contraction hit, and had waved him away when he'd asked her how bad it was. "_I'll be alright. We have been through worse, love." _When they'd finally arrived at the hospital, his father-in-law had helped him lead Natsume inside. His mother-in-law had parked the car and, thankfully, had remembered to bring in the bag.

The next twelve hours had been long and painful for both Natsume and Yuè (his fingers had been rather sore afterwards), but after it was all over, they had the daughter they'd been trying so hard to make. They'd named her Ai, and as Natsume had rested, their friends – who'd arrived in the interim – all had a chance to greet the newest member of the Kurosawa family.

It had been more of a trial to get home from the hospital than it had been getting there. Everyone had wanted to have a chance to hold the baby, and when they hadn't been doing so, they'd been pressing plush toys into their hands and whispering advice into their ears. No one, it seemed, had actually wanted them to go home.

Then there'd been helping Natsume into the car. She'd leaned heavily against Yuè as she'd walked, faltering every few steps, until finally Yuè had wondered if carrying her might be more efficient. But she'd made it to the car, despite his doubts, and had sagged into the back seat with him. She'd dozed off almost immediately afterwards. Her parents had driven them home, occasionally glancing back at them and cooing over their granddaughter. By the time they'd gotten home and settled Ai into her crib, it had taken another hour to gently, but firmly, convince the new grandparents that they should leave for the night. That accomplished, they'd eaten a light meal and fallen into bed, emotional and physical exhaustion catching up to them.

Of course, Ai woke up two hours later with a wail. Yuè stirred to the sound first and, seeing that Natsume was still asleep, got up and went to Ai's crib quickly. He didn't want the newborn to wake her mother so soon. His daughter looked up at him with watery, violet eyes, her face scrunched up as she cried. He reached into the crib and carefully took her out, cradling her against his chest. She felt so light and fragile to him then; it was rather frightening, knowing that she was entirely dependent on Natsume and him for her life.

But he would give her everything he could. He'd felt her quickening in his wife and was so, so touched by the knowledge that she was a blend of them both. That she existed seemed, even now, miraculous to him – for it meant that Natsume had fallen in love with him, despite knowing what he was, and that they'd made this life together, despite the obstacles that had been in their way. It was nearly enough to make him believe that Natsume's gods were real – and kind.

He rocked Ai in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It is alright. Shhh, my Ai, it's alright. If you keep fussing like that, you will wake your mama. And she needs her sleep – it took a lot out of her to bring you into this world, you know."

Ai slowly quieted, staring up at him with wide eyes and grabbing at his finger. Her little grip made something in him warm and twist and made him want to cry as well. He didn't do so, but he did hug her a bit tighter. "That's right. I've got you. Papa's got you."

That was right. He was a father now – and what a terrifying thought that was! But he'd also yearned to take on that role ever since Natsume and he had started trying. He would have done it just to make Natsume happy, but oh, after he'd listened to Ai's heartbeat with his wife's hand clutching his…oh, that had done it. They had a baby – he had a _family_ now – and while he was worried about all the things that could happen to them (that had _almost_ happened to them), he was also euphoric. They were his and he was theirs – and he would do anything to keep them safe and happy. Anything at all….

"I think she's hungry," Natsume said suddenly, her voice tired but warm.

Yuè turned around and saw her smiling at them. She pulled herself up with a grimace, leaned back into their pillows, and unbuttoned her nightgown to expose a breast. He appreciated the sight for a moment, but then slipped into bed beside her and carefully passed Ai to her. His wife led their daughter to her breast, and after a bit more fussing – which Natsume teased her about – Ai began to nurse. He understood, of course, what he was seeing from a scientific standpoint – but even so, it still amazed him how Natsume's body had carried her, given birth to her, and was now continuing to nurture her. He wondered, briefly, if their psychic abilities didn't pale when compared to this.

He wrapped an arm around Natsume, tucking her into his side. She sighed and leaned against him, cuddling their daughter and brushing her fingers through Ai's wisps of black hair. She began humming a lullaby, seeming too tired to actually sing the words. Eventually, Ai finished her meal, gurgling afterwards and falling asleep.

Yuè offered to take her, but Natsume shook her head and whispered, "Five more minutes – then I'll sleep." She continued humming and levitated a washcloth from their bathroom cabinet, dabbing it at Ai's mouth to wipe away the spittle. "Do you think we'll do right by her?" she asked quietly.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I am certain we will. You are doing a wonderful job thus far."

Natsume smiled sleepily. "It hasn't even been a day yet. I haven't had many chances to mess up."

She was drooping from exhaustion, so Yuè said, "Let me take her. You need your sleep."

She nodded reluctantly and let Yuè take Ai back to her crib. He tucked her in and pressed one of her stuffed animals – the mew he'd picked out – to her side. The newborn reached out, grabbing onto the toy and sticking the tip of its tail into her mouth. He shook his head, amused, and whispered, "Good night, little one."

As he slid back under the covers with Natsume, she cuddled into his arms and whispered into his neck, "You shouldn't worry, either. You'll be a good father to her."

He smiled into her hair. "You have so much faith in me."

He felt her quiver with a laugh. "You saved us from a big, scary monster. Of course I do."

The memory of that creature made him shiver. He held her tighter, reminding himself that he hadn't lost them, that they were here with him, happy, healthy, and safe. "I love you both," he whispered, finding comfort in expressing love and receiving it in return.

Indeed, she hugged him back and murmured, "We love you, too." Then, with another quiet laugh, she added, "Now let's get some sleep while we can. I am sure she'll be awake again soon."

And so they did…and so she was.

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**Thank You:** To _Larka_, who beta-read this ficlet for me. Thank you as well to those who read and will, I hope, review this ficlet.

**Author's Note:** So this is a bit of a strange series. Unlike my other fics, which have some sort of context to them, "Yours and Mine" will be a collection of Mewtwo/Sabrina moments set in the "Ours" universe. What is the "Ours" universe? Well, for a few years now, I've been planning to make a doujinshi (a fan-made manga). While its production is still up in the air – it certainly isn't going to be released anytime soon – I have been doing a bit more work on it lately. As a result, I've had a number of moments from that universe popping into my head. While I was jotting them down, I thought, "Well, why not post them? If nothing else, some readers might find them cute." So that's what this is: the random ramblings of my mind into Oursverse.

On another note, while it's no longer Christmastime, I thought I should do something for Mewtwo's birthday. So here it is, Mewtwo: you get a domestic scene with Sabrina and a daughter shortly afterwards. What more could you ask for? In all seriousness, my fics have a surprising lack of Mewtwo cuddling with his children. I need to remedy this. In any case, another entry into this project will be released on Valentine's Day. I hope to see you then!

Sincerely,

_WiseAbsol_


	2. Prayers Answered - Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pokémon,_ which belongs to: _Nintendo; the Pokémon Company; Creatures; GAME FREAK; TV Tokyo; ShoPro; Jr. Kikaku; Shogakukan Production Co, Ltd.; Satoshi Tajiri;_and _Ken Sugimori._ These companies and the creators rightfully own the franchise. I'm also not earning money from this; I'm merely having fun with a few of their characters.

* * *

**O:O:O**

**YOURS AND MINE**

**Ficlet 2 – Prayers Answered, Part 1**

**O:O:O**

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Insomnia, Natsume found, sometimes had its uses. While she was standing at her stove, a cup of freshly made tea in her hands, her abra – who she'd sent to watch over Yuè at night – teleported to her and set a paw on her leg. He was uneasy, and the reason why followed soon after: her charge wasn't sleeping well tonight. That was common enough, but the urgency in Yasu's thoughts made her set down her cup and turn off her stove. She grabbed her coat and teleported to the house she'd settled Yuè in.

In earlier years, the house had been the groundskeeper's cottage. After his retirement, however, he'd moved to the southern islands, leaving the home unoccupied. Rather than hiring on a new groundskeeper, her parents and she had parceled out the man's duties to the students as work-study opportunities. So the cottage had remained empty, being tended to regularly so it wouldn't fall into disrepair.

Wanting to respect Yuè's privacy and his…reclusive…tendencies, she'd settled him into the cottage and had done her best to make him comfortable. But she'd had an ulterior motive for placing him there, rather than in one of the guest dorms. She had little doubt that Yuè was the most powerful psychic she'd ever encountered, which would be fine, if he weren't also _unstable_. Distancing him from the others – at least at night, when his night terrors and the resulting outbursts occurred – was safer than not. She tried to prompt him to socialize during the day, of course. Admittedly, he wasn't often receptive to doing so – but even so, she felt he was making steady, if slowprogress on opening up.

As she unlocked the front door of the cottage, she wondered when – or if – he would ever truly open up to someone. As she closed the door behind her, she sensed, more than heard, the way he thrashed as his nightmare took hold of him. Setting down her coat, she went down the hall and slid open the door to his bedroom.

Yuè lay twisted in his sheets, sweating and gasping, occasionally moaning as if in pain. She went to him, sitting at the edge of his bed and reaching out to touch his shoulder. She began to sing low and soothing sounds, broadcasting a feeling of tranquility to make him quiet and lead him to more peaceful dreams.

It didn't work as well as she might have wished. His fear pushed back against her attempts and he jerked awake. He registered her leaning over him and scrambled back to the edge of the bed. He didn't seem to really _see_ her at first, but then he blinked, his eyes focused, and he stared at her in bewilderment.

"Why are you here?" he rasped, seeming to be having trouble breathing properly.

"You were having a nightmare," she explained, keeping her voice quiet and calm. "I was trying to guide out of it."

His laugh was sharp and bitter at that. "_You_ cannot help me. Not with this."

She didn't let his harsh tone bother her. He was hurting and wasn't precisely rational at the moment. "Try me."

He bared his teeth at her. "How could you help me? You were born into a family who accepted you for what you are. You have probably never lacked for something, never _lost _something-."

"Everyone has lost something," she said, thinking back on her childhood and – but now wasn't the time or place for that. Now was about him. "What did you lose?"

He evaded her question. "Tell me, what kind of creature do you think I am? After all these months, surely you've made a guess?"

Very well – she would go down this road and see where it led. "You are a powerful psychic who can shapeshift. Your true form is that of a giant cat. According to the legends, that makes you a mew."

His canines – a little too long – glinted in the dark. "Close. Very close. I am a clone of mew, whose genes were spliced and manipulated to…'enhance'…my design. My creators gave me many purposes, none of which were pleasant – and none of which they didn't come to regret."

The scandal on Guren Island suddenly came to her mind, perhaps prompted by Yuè's own thoughts. There had been a private laboratory there, in which illegal cloning and genetic experimentations had been carried out. Extinct species had been resurrected and chimeras had been created. The geneticists had tried to make existing species stronger by rearranging the building blocks of life, scrambling the sequences of adenine, guanine, thymine, and cytosine. They'd been gods, for a time, before their research had gone up in flames. The resulting investigation had led to their work being exposed and their subsequent arrests. Well, to the arrests of those who'd survived the blaze. She wondered if the cause of that fire was now in front of her.

He followed her train of thought and nodded. "You know the group I am referring to."

"I know of them," she corrected. She looked at his forearm, where his serial number was tattooed. "They mistreated you." There was no question as to that.

"They paid their dues for it," he snarled.

"And is that what you were dreaming about?" she asked.

His eyes narrowed. "No." And then he looked away from her. "...And yes. I remembered my childhood. That is all."

"What happened?" She reached out to touch his arm, perhaps too suddenly, because he jerked it back. "Please, Yuè, tell me-."

"You call me by that name," he growled. "As if you own me, as if I am your pet-."

He was getting more incensed – and she was following suit. "That is _not_ true! I didn't want to call you by a number. You are a _person_. You deserve a _name_. And you seemed to like the one I gave you, if I remember correct-."

"You still laid your claim with it," he interjected, his eyes flashing blue. "As you did when you gave me shelter and food, the clothes I now wear, the work I now do. I owe you – and someday, I am sure, you will call in that debt!"

"You're wrong." She didn't know if she could reason with him when he was like this, but she had to try. "I wanted to help you. You don't owe me anything for that." And then the thought struck her like a blow to the stomach. "Is _that_ what they told you? That you _owed_ them for-?"

The renewed fury in his voice confirmed her suspicions. His words were strangely intoned, as if he were repeating what he'd heard. "They made me, so I owed them. They kept me alive, so I owed them. So I should let them run their tests, let them take their samples, let them shove their needles into my skin. I owed them for what they had done for me. I owed…."

She slid across the bed and took his hands in hers. "No. You owed them nothing._ Nothing. _They made you, but that made it _their job_ to _take care of you_, not – not abuse you."

There was a long silence then. He stared at their hands and then shook his head. "But I survived. They said they had to know why. If they did they could bring the others back. Then…," and he swayed, looking like he might be ill, "…but it would not have been _them_. It could not have been. The soul and the genome are two different things. I knew that…I knew, and yet…."

She was losing him. She tried to get him to meet her eyes, but his gaze kept sliding away from her. "Yuè, what happened? Who are you talking about?"

The pain in his voice made her ache. "My friends. Bulbasaurtwo, Squirtletwo, Charmandertwo, Meowthtwo, Pikatwo. And Aitwo – my Ai. They all died. She died in front of me. She said she thought that life was wonderful, but how can that be true? It wasn't good without them. It wasn't…."

_It wasn't good without them. _His words struck close to home – almost too close for her to bear. But she pushed back the memories and pulled him towards her, wrapping him in a fierce hug. "No. She was right. It will get better, Yuè. You will get past this, and when you do, life won't seem so terrible. I promise."

His arms wrapped around her and squeezed almost painfully tight. He rested his head on her breast and made sharp, gasping sounds as he struggled to breathe properly. She flushed at the intimate contact, but didn't comment on it. Now wasn't the time or place for that.

"How do you know?" he asked her, shaking in her arms.

"I told you. Everyone has lost something. Even me." But she said no more than that.

He didn't seem to know what to say in response. Instead, he continued trembling against her. A pained noise left his throat, but he didn't cry. Maybe he thought crying was a sign of weakness. Maybe he thought crying was something to do alone. Either way, he held onto her desperately and buried himself in her embrace.

Eventually, when he calmed down, she loosened her grip and he followed suit. She pressed him back down into the bed, then straightened and tucked the covers in around him. He looked exhausted as he stared up at her.

"I'm going to make you some tea," she whispered, "something to soothe your nerves and help you sleep."

She began to get up, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist. "No. I do not need tea." There was a pregnant pause, and then he whispered, "Stay. Stay with me." There was uncertainty in his voice and desperation in his eyes – as if he thought she wouldn't actually come back. As if he thought she'd leave him here, alone and afraid….

She stayed. How could she not? She slid under the covers with him (she'd never shared a bed with a man before – but now wasn't the time to think _that _either) and kept some space between them.

She whispered, "Of course," and took his hand. He squeezed it back.

He fell asleep before she did – but she slept longer, thanks to already being sleep-deprived. When he woke up, sunlight was pouring through the gap in the curtains and songbirds were twittering outside. As he blinked and cleared away the gumminess in his eyes, he saw that Natsume was still there, sleeping on her side and facing him. His hand was still cradled in both of hers, her skin warm and her fingers light on his. Her hair was falling over her face and she was drooling onto one of his pillows. He repressed a snort at that; she must have been more tired than even she'd realized. He reached out with his other hand, brushing her hair back behind her ear. The black strands were hot from the sunlight and her cheek was soft and smooth. He ran a finger down her chin, relishing the feeling for a moment, just as he relished the feeling of her hands over his.

She stirred then, her eyes drifting open, and he snapped his arm back, feeling like a child who'd been caught stealing a sweet from a candy jar. She blinked at him and then seemed to realize she was drooling, because she jerked up with a gasp and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She withdrew her hands in the process, which irked him for a reason he couldn't explain to himself.

"Sorry," she said, looking at the pillowcase and seeming to sense – and misinterpret – the source of his irritation. "I'll get you some fresh bedding later."

He shook his head. "I can wash them myself. You needn't worry about it. I think you may be running late as it is."

She glanced at the clock on his nightstand, uttered an oath, and dashed out of his room. Her nightshirt was loose enough to give him a glimpse of a breast, which make his mouth go dry for some reason. He wondered why. Was it because she tended to dress so conservatively, never giving anyone a peak at the skin beneath her clothes? He couldn't be sure.

Dismissing the thought, he leaned over to what had been, for the night, her side of the bed. It was still warm and smelled faintly of jasmine. He breathed that scent in, flipping over the pillow on impulse and deciding that hygiene was overrated. He'd wash the sheets once her smell had faded from them.

He got up when he heard Natsume stumble into something – the coat hanger, most likely – and donned his robe, not bothering to tie it. He found Natsume pulling her shoes on with some difficulty, with her coat tucked under her arm. She stared at him for a moment, her eyes not exactly focused on his face, and he remembered, "Right. Your kind dislikes nakedness." Not that he was truly naked. Sleeping without a shirt on did not constitute that. But he tied his robe together anyway and put on some slippers. "Allow me to make you breakfast. Your preparations will go faster that way."

She hesitated, but then nodded. Taking her by the arm, he teleported them back to her home, which she'd briefly invited him into when they'd gone over the terms of his stay. She immediately hurried up the stairs, and he spent the next few minutes pillaging her cabinets and refrigerator. She was clearly in too much of a hurry to sit down and eat, so it would have to be something simple and easy to carry. He found the bread and the cherry jam, a bag of apples, and a thermal mug – was there time for coffee? Could he even make coffee correctly? Perhaps tea would be better – ah, but the teapot was already out. It was also, he discovered, already full of water. Beside it was a teacup, its contents cold and half-finished. A suspicion dawned on him then. Had Natsume left her tea in the middle of the night to come to him?

The thought was both touching and deeply unsettling to him – because when had anyone ever placed his needs before their pleasures…?

When she came down the stairs, dressed in her shrine maiden uniform – right, it was Sunday, and she volunteered at the Shinto temple on Sundays – she found a plate laden with toast and jam, a container of sliced apples, and a thermos of tea waiting for her. She gave him a smile of thanks, devouring the first piece of toast in urgency. She probably burned her tongue when she washed it down with some gulps of tea – her watering eyes suggested as much – but even so, she looked up at him and asked, "Do you think you'll be alright today?"

Her eyes were shadowed with the memories of the previous night. He nodded to reassure her, finding that despite everything that had happened, he felt rather refreshed – and peaceful. He wondered if he'd ever slept so soundly before…but he wouldn't let the implications of that sink in.

"I will be alright," he said instead. And honesty compelled him to admit, "I slept well, thanks to you."

She flushed a pretty shade of pink at that and put the thermos and the container of apples into her pack. "Okay. Just have Yasu come get me if you need anything. Feel free to have something to eat. I owe you for the breakfast."

He nodded and turned away, intent on arranging his own meal. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her pluck up the second piece of toast and teleport away. The burst of psychic energy made him shiver – but pleasantly so – and he spent the next minute deciding which cold cereal to eat. There was an oats-and-honey blend that would do nicely. As he ate, his eyes kept straying to the teapot on the stove, now hot, and to the teacup on the counter….

He spent the next half an hour cleaning the dishes – it seemed the polite thing to do. Yasu, who was curled up on a nearby mat, eventually stirred and stretched, going over to his bowl of premium pokéchow and munching away at the kibble. The abra, more than once, glanced up at him in what seemed to be amusement.

"Laugh all you want," Yuè eventually growled at him, "But when was the last time she let _you_ sleep with her?"

The psychic fox made a rumbling noise – Yuè recognized it, with some annoyance, as a laugh – and then teleported out into the garden to meditate. Yuè grumbled, but as he finished drying the teacup and found its place in the cabinet, he remembered the feeling of Natsume's hands over his and the scent of her in his sheets….

A small and treacherous part of him wondered, then, if he'd need to have another nightmare to have a repeat of the occasion. The larger part of him, of course, promptly squashed the thought – it wasn't appropriate and it wasn't like he _needed _her. But even so, that little part of him, persistent and insidious…hoped_ not_.

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**Thank You:** To _Larka_, who beta-read this ficlet for me. Thank you as well to _Meneldur, StarWriterWG_, and _Kayasuri-n_ for reviewing the last ficlet. I hope you will continue to enjoy these ficlets and review. The same goes for the quieter readers out there!

**Author's Note: **As the ficlet title indicates, this is the first half of this little sequence, with the next one following the rest of Natsume's day. I've decided these ficlets shouldn't be any longer than five pages, so this seemed an appropriate place to split them up. I originally had some trouble with this one, since I'd forgotten that Yuè moved in with Natsume _after _they'd gotten together, rather than being roommates from the start. I think I managed to find a suitable way to explain how she knew he was having a nightmare though, despite the distance between them. Beyond that, this ficlet alludes to a few, ah, incidences that will be explicitly explored in "Ours." I'm trying to limit overlapping between the two works, so while you may get some backstory for these two down the road, _what comes of that_ will not be depicted.

In any case, Happy Valentine's Day everyone! If you're in a relationship, I hope your day is suitably romantic. If you're single, feel free to join me in mocking the commercialization of romance and in sending Disturbatines. Because nothing says "I love you" like sending creepy cards to your friends! ;)

Sincerely,

_WiseAbsol_


	3. Prayers Answered - Part 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pokémon,_ which belongs to: _Nintendo; the Pokémon Company; Creatures; GAME FREAK; TV Tokyo; ShoPro; Jr. Kikaku; Shogakukan Production Co, Ltd.; Satoshi Tajiri;_and _Ken Sugimori._ These companies and the creators rightfully own the franchise. I'm also not earning money from this; I'm merely having fun with a few of their characters.

* * *

**O:O:O**

**YOURS AND MINE**

**Ficlet 3 – Prayers Answered, Part 2**

**O:O:O**

* * *

She appeared beneath the _torii_ gate of the temple and hurried forward, willing the caffeine to buzz in her veins and hoping her breakfast would hold her over until lunch. She greeted the priests who were emerging from their living quarters with a quick bow and a good morning. She thought they might have stared at her – she'd always been punctual in the past – but they didn't comment on her tardiness. She spent the next few hours sweeping the grounds, lighting the incense offerings, and assisting in a couple ritual cleansings. Then, when she managed to find some time to herself, she went to one of the temple gardens and sat in front of a small shrine.

She thought back to the previous night and to what Yuè had revealed. She'd known he'd been mistreated, but she hadn't realized the depths of his pain. But then she'd seen the haunted look in his eyes and felt the uncertain, yet _desperate_ way he'd held on to her, as if he'd fall apart without something or someone to cling to. He wasn't certain how to live – or live happily, at that. His past had broken him and he was still trapped in it, and the weight of leading him out of that darkness lay heavy on her shoulders. It was a familiar weight, admittedly. She'd taken on the same responsibility for her students. Yet somehow, she felt even more invested in his case than theirs. She'd never allowed herself to get this personally involved before. She'd never felt so ready to break along with someone else, if that was what it took….

It disturbed her, so she prayed to the gods and hoped they were listening. She bowed her hand, clasped her hands together, and whispered, "Help me. He is hurting so terribly, so please, help me save him. What more can I do for him? What more can I give him? Please, tell me, am I doing this right? Am I doing this the way you want?"

The gods, in reply, were silent.

She sighed and sensed the head priest approaching her. He stopped a meter away, waiting for her to finish her prayer, and smiled when she stood and turned to him. He gave her a respectful bow, though not as deep as her own, and asked, "Would you like to join me for lunch, Miss Kurosawa?"

She nodded. That sounded good to her. They went into the nearest sitting room, leaving the door open to let the breeze and the sunlight in. The elderly man made them a batch of white tea, the leaves freshly plucked from his garden. For the next few minutes, she ate her apples and he, his rice. They sat across from each other in silence, listening to the wind chimes and the laughter of the visitors outside. Then the priest said, "You've been distracted all day. Would you tell me what's troubling you?"

She held the warm cup in her hands and stared into the steaming liquid. "I had a long night."

"Yes. You spent it with a certain man." When she jerked her head up to stare at him, he gave her a reassuring smile. "Your aura has traces of his in it – a sign of prolonged and close exposure."

"We didn't-" she rushed to explain, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"I know. Your aura would have been much more tainted if you had. I do not mean to chastise you, my dear. I merely think you need to talk about it with someone. So please, tell me: what happened?"

She couldn't share Yuè's secrets with anyone, not even with the priest who knew so many of hers. Yet she could tell him what Yuè was going through to the best of her abilities. "Before he came here, he was hurt by those who were supposed to care for him. Now he doesn't know how to function in a healthy environment. He doesn't know how to live a normal life, nor if life is even worth living. He doesn't trust people and he…he seems so lost. I have seen others like him, but…."

"But you've had other people to help you in the past – people who specialize in this line of work. In this case, however, you alone bear the responsibility for this man. And you wonder if you are capable of the task."

She said nothing, but nodded in reply. Yuè refused to see any counselors, the proud creature that he was, and she didn't have the power to force him to go. Which meant it was up to her….

"Do you _want _to help him?" he asked. His voice held a note of curiosity in it, but that was all. She knew he wouldn't judge her even if she said no.

But the truth was that she'd never thought of _not _helping Yuè. She'd never thought of breaking her promise to him, as hard as it was to keep. It wasn't in her nature, and the priest smiled as he perceived that. "I see. Then you will save him."

"How can you be so sure of that?" she asked, setting down her cup and folding her hands in her lap.

"The gods would not have sent him to you, if you were incapable." He too set down his cup and laid his hands on the table. "Consider, for a moment, how you met him. My fellow priests and I had retired for the night. Our visitors had left us hours beforehand. You were the only one who lingered on the grounds. Moreover, your psychic abilities allowed you to sense his presence in our temple, and your lineage and status gave you leave to enter it. Furthermore, you are uniquely able to understand what he has endured. You can and have offered him much in the way of hope.

"I believe your meeting with him was destined," the priest confided to her. Then, in a more solemn voice, he added, "If you cannot save him, then I fear no one can."

She didn't know whether she should feel comforted or even more burdened by that. She drank some of her tea – it had cooled, so she heated it quickly – and eventually said, "You have so much faith in me."

"You have proven your strength in the past. I do not see why this trial would be any different." Then, with a sigh, he looked outside and said, "But I wonder: will you be prepared for the consequences of your success?"

She blinked. "Consequences?"

His smile was kind, but somewhat sad as he said, "That man will fall in love with you, Miss Kurosawa. Hopelessly so."

She nearly dropped her teacup in shock. Her fingers twitched around the porcelain. "What-? How – how can you _know_ that? He barely _likes_ me now. He is more inclined to curse me than-"

"-As you said, he is lost. He is not used to kindness, so he lashes out with suspicion and uncertainty whenever it is offered. He may even resent you for it. But eventually, you _will_ break through to him. He will see your sincerity and appreciate your efforts. More than that, he will come to see you as his savior. He will worship you, Miss Kurosawa, and will do everything he can to please you." He took her cup from her, refilled it, and passed it back to her.

Then he met her eyes, and there was something hard in his gaze as he said, "But when he approaches you, intent on love, you must reject him."

Something small, yet _something_ nonetheless, reared up inside of her and _hissed _at that, even though she'd never thought of Yuè in that way. "_Why?_" she asked, her voice sounding strangely sharp in her ears.

His gaze softened at her tone. "Do not misinterpret my meaning. I would never try to keep you from love – not for the sake of this temple or for any other reason you might imagine. Love is a gift. I know that well enough. You may not have been tempted by it thus far, but when you're given the gift of someone's heart and body – I can understand why you would surrender to it. I wouldn't even begrudge you for it. Ah, now there's no need to blush. Sex, too, is a gift, and you might find it preferable to working with us. But I am getting off topic. You shouldn't give in to him because it wouldn't be fair to either of you."

At her confused look, he explained, "Some may dream of being the center of another person's world – but that is more harmful to them than not. If he sees you as his personal goddess, it places unrealistic expectations on you. It forces you to always be perfect, for if you make mistakes or offer offense, he will grow disillusioned – or worse. Simply put, you cannot be _you_. And in worshipping you, he cannot be _himself_ – for he must always give in to your will and never place his own needs first. Neither of those things are healthy, Miss Kurosawa. Nothing in a romantic relationship between a follower and an idol can be."

A shiver rushed through her and she blurted out, "So I have to keep him at arm's length, always? What if I-?"

"As long as you are helping him, you cannot also _be_ his. Someday you two could be equals, but you must find balance with him. Let him see you for who you are. Let him see your flaws and your contradictions, your anger and your grief. He may be disappointed, for a time, but if his feelings for you are sincere, then he'll move past his disappointment and love you for who you _actually_ are. And you, in turn, must see him as more than a broken man. He is strong – he must be to have survived this long. Do not look down at him, or pity him, or try nurturing him like a mother would her child. Give him the tools he needs to help himself and watch the man he becomes. Again, I would never wish to deny you love. But I want you to make sure that love is true, and not some shallow mockery of it."

That was a lot for her to take in – but she thought she understood what he was saying. "Thank you. I will – I will keep that in mind."

He reached over the table and set a hand on her shoulder. "I do not mean to discourage you. Merely – if you do end up leaving us, I would like to ensure your happiness in what small way I can."

She laughed a little nervously at that. "What you suspect might never happen," she reminded him.

He drew back his hand and shrugged. "And yet it might. Especially since fate is on your side."

Before she could think of a response to that, the bell rang and signaled that the lunch hour was over. They stared at each other for moment, and then she said, "I'd best get back to sweeping."

He nodded. "I will take care of these dishes. If I don't see you again today, have a pleasant evening."

She thanked him and spent the next few hours contemplating what he'd said. When the visitors began trickling out, she returned to the garden and knelt before the shrine. She remembered the priest's words and mused that, while he'd added another worry to her thoughts, he'd also diminished one as well. She prayed again and whispered to the gods, "I will do my best for Yuè. I will not fail you. Thank you."

For the gods, it seemed, had faith in her – and while there might be more trials for her in the future, that thought was rather comforting.

* * *

**Thank You:** To _Larka_, who beta-read this ficlet for me. Thank you as well to _StarWriterWG, ultima-owner, Kayasuri-n, _and _Meneldur_ for reviewing the last ficlet! I hope you will continue to enjoy these entries and **review**! The same goes for the quieter readers out there.

**Author's Note:** First, readers should know that some slight changes were made to "Silent Night" as of last night. These changes mostly concerned Yuè/Mewtwo's behavior during Ai's birth, since it was pointed out to me that his characterization had _slid_ in that. Second, this ficlet was written for two purposes: to show more of Natsume's religious side and to address a sentiment that rather concerns me in the romance genre – and in real life relationships, too. I think this ficlet was anvilicious enough about that point, though, so I don't need to go into more detail about it here. Suffice to say that Yuè/Mewtwo's affections for Natsume will always contain an element of deep admiration – but I hope that the next few ficlets will show that he doesn't idolize her, per se. Similarly, Natsume won't continue to look down on him as time goes on; she is doing so here, but not in a condescending way, and even that won't last. Anyway, the next two ficlets will be a bit more fun and _dirty_. The third one, which I'm still writing on, will be very _sweet_ in contrast.

Also, if this hasn't already been made clear, these ficlets will _not_ be in chronological order. Until next time!

Sincerely,

_WiseAbsol_


	4. Escalation

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pokémon,_ which belongs to: _Nintendo; the Pokémon Company; Creatures; GAME FREAK; TV Tokyo; ShoPro; Jr. Kikaku; Shogakukan Production Co, Ltd.; Satoshi Tajiri; _and _Ken Sugimori. _These companies and the creators rightfully own the franchise. I'm also not earning money from this; I'm merely having fun with a few of their characters.

**Ficlet Note:** This ficlet is **rated M for sexual content**. For those who are uncomfortable with such material, I would still advise reading until the kiss, since what leads up to it _is _rather important. Also, the name Wataru = Lance and Ibuki = Clair in the English dub.

* * *

**O:O:O**

**YOURS AND MINE**

**Ficlet 4 – Escalation**

**O:O:O**

* * *

Yuè, in the year and a half they'd known each other, had never watched her battle.

To her credit, Natsume had never been hurt by his reluctance. She'd guessed that his past experiences with pokémon battles had been unpleasant; that she'd found him with blood on his paws had only strengthened her suspicions. On that very first night, though, she'd firmly established the importance of her League career, both to her academy (to promote and fund it) and to her personally (since it was a family tradition). She'd insisted that he would never have to go anywhere near the Gym, unless he wished to; that she treated her pokémon very well; and that she made sure her trainers did the same. She'd even made a point to outline some of her duties as a Gym Leader – among which included reporting cases of suspected pokémon abuse. By the end of the lecture, he'd known this was not a subject he could argue with her. She would never budge, even if he decided to shout and make his disapproval of the practice abundantly clear. He'd grudgingly agreed to disagree with her, and they had moved on to other, less volatile subjects.

Yet over the following months, he'd gradually and reluctantly learned more about the League – and had discovered that his experiences didn't align with the League norm. Initially, he'd assumed that meant that the League was spreading misinformation about their practices to justify their cruelty to the public…but then certain events had happened that had shifted his thinking. The League as a whole was not corrupt – but certain members of it were, and his former master had been among those "bad apples." So Yuè, after much consideration, had made a tentative peace with the idea of Natsume being a Gym Leader. He'd even begun to consider going to her Gym to spar with her. He didn't want his skills to atrophy, after all – not when he'd bled to learn them.

He had no intention of fighting with her tonight, however. No, their plan was to go out to eat and celebrate him earning his degree. It was only an outing between friends, he'd reminded himself. It was absolutely _not _a date, regardless of the suggestive comments her mother had made and the glares her father had sent his way. Yet even so, he'd dressed in his nicest clothes and had entered the Gym, deciding to make the gesture of picking her up.

Which is what had led him here: to standing on the sidelines, watching her battle her last opponent of the night. The roars of the psychic energy blasts and the shrieks of the challenger's pokémon had echoed oddly in his ears. His skin had felt cold and clammy beneath his clothes, his stomach had churned, and his fingernails had dug into his palms. He'd vaguely noted that Natsume and Yasu were defeating their opponent with ease. He might have taken pride in their combined skills – he certainly, on some distant level, appreciated the skin-tight, leather suit Natsume was wearing – but any good feeling he'd had, however small, evaporated when his gaze had settled on her hip. He'd gritted his teeth and felt his thoughts collapsing in on themselves, the sting of memory flaring across his back, and the suspicion he'd felt for her once – thought buried months past – reared up, ugly and angry and hurting as he wondered if she'd lied about her nature _all along_.

The thought that she wasn't who he'd thought she was was more wounding than he knew it should be. After all, he knew better than to think that any humans were _good_. Only Ai had been good – and Ai had never grown up. That was the kind of world he was living in. He knew that. But for a while he'd…he'd hoped that Natsume was…!

She followed the trainer out of the arena, closed up the Gym, and then teleported back to him. She walked up to him with a surprised and _pleased (how dare she be pleased with herself) _smile on her face as she said, "You braved the Gym to come pick me up? I'm touched. Just give me a few minutes to freshen up and then we can go…eat…." She must have sensed his anger then, because her smile faded and concern filled her face. "Yuè, is something wrong? You're shaking."

So he was. He couldn't seem to stop himself. "Do you use it often?" he asked, his voice low and edged with a snarl.

She blinked at him, clearly not understanding what he was referring to _(of course she wouldn't; she'd never been on the other side of it)_, but took a step back at his tone. "Use what often?"

"That whip of yours."

Her eyes widened as comprehension sank in. She rested a hand on the damnable thing and shook her head. "Yuè, _no_. This _does not_ mean what you think it means! This is nothing. I've never-!"

_Lies. She is lying. She must be lying. They all lie. _"Oh? You have never given your pokémon a taste of the lash? You have never used it when he fails to carry out a command? You have never used it to drive him on, even when he's about to collapse?" His voice grew louder and harsher as he went on, his vision going red and his blood _boiling_. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd telekinetically snatched the whip from her, with the weapon settling into his own, raised hand.

"No. _No. Listen to me!_" She, too, was shaking, but despite her wary glance at the raised whip, she stepped _closer _to him."I would _never _hurt Yasu! Not by using _that _or by any other means! _You know that! _You _know _I wouldn't hurt anyone else, either, so _please, _calm-!"

"Perhaps I do not know you as well as I thought! Perhaps you_ would _hurt Yasu, or me, or someone else_, _if given the proper provocation!" And she'd always been called such a gentle woman by others. He'd thought so himself – and once again, he'd been played the fool. "Why else would you carry this _thing _at your side, unless you intended to use it?" he spat, certain down to his marrow that she couldn't refute that.

"Because _it was a gift_! Because it _goes with the outfit_! Because it _unsettles the trainers_! Ask Yasu – ask anyone! I have _never_ used it – not once! I would probably hurt myself if I tried," she shouted, pressing a hand to her breast.

Their auras had flared around them while they were arguing, and somehow, _somehow, _through the haze of his fury and grief, the sincerity of her words reached him. Bewilderment followed. He blurted out a flat, "What," not understanding what she'd just said.

She huffed out a frustrated breath. "I got _that,"_ she said, pointing at the whip, "from my mentor. After being selected by the former Gym Leader, Gym Leader applicants have to spend a year shadowing one of the Elite Four. When they think their applicants are ready, they have them undergo a special test. If they pass, their license is approved. It's a tradition to receive a gift from them afterwards. Ibuki of the Dragon Clan was my mentor. She was standing in for Wataru. She – she likes leather and whips! She thought it was _funny _to give me that!"

What? _What? _"That – that–" he shouted "–that is _ridiculous_!"

But as ridiculous as it sounded, it still made _much more sense_ than what he'd been accusing her of.

The thought snapped him back to his senses. He stared at her, his thoughts beginning to reorganize themselves into something resembling coherence. If what she said was true, then she was still Natsume. She was still the Natsume who never hurt people. She was still the Natsume was who good and kind and treated pokémon with respect, no matter how ugly and feral they seemed. She would never hurt Yasu – and she would never hurt _him_. She was _Natsume_. How could he have thought that she…?

As his mouth went dry, his palms sweated, and he felt like he was going to be sick, she took a step towards him and said, "It's the truth."

And in that moment, something _changed_. He looked at the whip in his hand. He looked past it at her. Her face was flushed, her chest was heaving, and that leather suit showed off her form sinfully well. The headiness he was feeling from the rush of anger abruptly shifted into _something else. _Blood rushed downwards even as his heart rate picked up. _She looks gorgeous like that, all riled up. _And she was still Natsume – _his Natsume_ – and that thought made some restraint in him snap_._ _To hell with the consequences_, he thought as he threw the whip to the ground like a gauntlet. _To hell with propriety, _he thought as he lunged at her and murmured a low, "Good." _To hell with everything but her, _he thought as he did what he'd imagined doing for months.

He kissed her. He kissed her somewhat awkwardly, because he'd never kissed someone before, but it was good and fierce and she tasted sweet, like some fruit he'd never tried before. He drew her against him and felt her stiffen with surprise, but then her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on. She made a quiet, pleased noise against his mouth as she kissed him back.

_She kissed him back._

He hadn't honestly thought that she would. He'd expected her to push him away, and he _would have stopped_ if she had. But her reciprocation made him press on, because he'd wanted this for _so long_. He'd wanted _her_ for so long. He'd imagined _this_ so many times – and now that it was happening, he didn't want it to stop. He cradled the back of her neck and threaded his fingers through her hair. So very soft; so very warm. He felt her fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt and prickling against his shoulders. Between breaths and kisses he started fumbling with the buttons of her leather jacket, getting two through and glimpsing the black undershirt beneath. He kissed down her jaw, her neck, listening to her gasp as he grabbed her hips and ground his to hers. Damn, damn, _damn_ – he was being too forceful, he was moving this too fast – but she didn't push him away. In fact, she was pulling the hem of his shirt from his pants and sliding her hands up his stomach. _Fuck. _"Yuè," she moaned into his ear, her hands rising to his chest, "_Yuè_."

He answered her by undoing the remaining buttons of her jacket and helping her shuck it off. He stroked up her sides, feeling her through the undershirt, and he wasn't sure whether her nipples hardened at the sudden cold or at his sudden touch. She, in turn, helped him tug off his shirt and nipped at his collarbone. He ran his knuckles down her spine and kneaded into her backside. She helped him undo her belt and fumbled at his. Soon they were tugging the rest of their clothes off in a reckless, eager, fever-haze, and relishing the feeling of skin on skin. He pressed her back against the nearest wall, caressing up her thighs and between them. She arched into his hand with a sharp, desperate cry, her flesh hot and slick to the touch. Her fingers raked through his hair as she kissed him, tongue and all, and at some point in his explorations he felt her shuddering against his fingers. She gasped and went rigid in his arms, her eyes flying open to stare at him – and then she made a soft "oh" and slid down the wall. He followed her, wrapping an arm beneath her back to support her.

There was a pause, and then she was kissing and touching him again, her hands sliding lower and lower until she was fondling him between his legs. He moaned – her hands felt nothing like his own had, all the times he'd imagined her doing just this. _Her_ hands were gentle but so, _so tantalizing_ and he _had to make her stop_ or he'd finish far too soon. He pushed her hands up and away, kissing her down her front and trying not to come undone at the very thought of doing _more _with her.

At some point amidst all the groping and moaning and kissing, he confessed to her, "I need you." He sucked at one of her breasts, feeling her legs brush against his, feeling her fingernails on his neck, and feeling as much as hearing her whisper-gasp back, "Then take me," her voice hot and defiant and low with lust.

She let her legs fall open at his touch and complied when he lifted her hips. She guided him when he asked her to – but before he could move forward, a sudden, horrifying thought struck him, like ice water being dumped across his back. For Natsume was a shrine maiden – and shrine maidens were _virgins_ consecrated by the gods. If they did this, then she couldn't – she loved being a – but then she pressed a kiss to his shoulder and murmured, "Don't stop. Please don't stop, Yuè."

And even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have brought himself to hesitate after that. She was certain and she _wanted _him. She wanted _him._ So he pushed into her, gasping at the hot, wet feeling of her and the pleasure that accompanied it. He met some slight resistance, saw discomfort flicker over her face, but then she gritted her teeth and squeezed him closer with her legs. He complied – he thrust harder – and the resistance gave. She cried out, her fingernails scraping down his back, but then he was all the way in her and damn, _damn_ did she feel better than he'd ever imagined. At her prompting, he began to move – and after a few more thrusts, she began rocking her hips against his, making little moans as they found their rhythm. He distantly heard himself groaning as they moved together – he probably cried out her name more than once – but it was pleasurable in a way he'd never experienced before, and each moment seemed to last twice as long thanks to the novelty of it.

There was, of course, some pain to it too. Her nails and teeth were going to leave marks on him, but that scarcely mattered. Her body also wasn't used to this, which mattered rather more, but she was clinging to his pleasure psychically and that served them both well enough. The ecstasy of it built and built until finally_, finally,_ he couldn't hold back anymore. He clutched Natsume to him hard, probably hard enough to leave bruises on her hips, and spent himself. And then it was over. He sank against her with a sigh and she held on to him, her fingers trailing down his spine.

They talked a little afterwards, lying there covered in sweat and soil dust and smelling strongly of sex. But at some point, they had to get up. They gathered their clothes and headed to the locker room to wash up. Natsume retrieved her bathing supplies and a change of clothes from her locker. She gave him a sympathetic look – he didn't have anything fresh to change into. He didn't mind – his clothes were not that dirty – and after a moment's hesitation, he joined her in one of the showers. It was a small space, so they arranged themselves as comfortably as they could. As Natsume took a washcloth and began soaping up, he watched her, noticing the blush on her cheeks and admiring the view.

In the rush from arguing through making love, he hadn't paused to consider the intimacy of the act they'd shared. He'd been audacious, abandoning himself in that haze of heat and need with her. And now, despite having kissed and explored her damned near everywhere, he wasn't certain what to do. It was one thing to touch her in the midst of passion; it was quite another to do so here. But he wanted to – by all her gods, he wanted to. So he reached out, taking the washcloth from her hand tentatively, and asked, "May I?" She stared at him for a moment, but then nodded and closed her eyes. He spent the next several minutes running the soapy cloth over her skin, gently wiping the sweat and dust and other impurities away. She sighed when he washed her back and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

He noted, with some concern, the blood on the cloth as he knelt and wiped down her legs. She seemed to sense that, because she gestured for him to stand, gave him a reassuring look, and said over the spray, "Let me." She leaned against the shower stall wall as she ran the cloth between her legs, grimacing and biting her lower lip in discomfort. But then it was done, and he turned his attention to her hair, kneading shampoo into it thoroughly. She rinsed off afterwards, the suds swirling at their feet.

Then it was his turn. Her touches felt different through the fresh but equally soapy cloth, but they were pleasant in their own way. He winced whenever the soap stung in the cuts she'd left him with, but shook his head when she apologized. "There is no need for that. I will heal." He'd had worse wounds in the past, besides. These were nothing. Eventually he knelt and closed his eyes while she rubbed shampoo into his hair. He pressed a kiss to her thigh as her fingers raked over his scalp. This felt nice – so, so nice, satisfying a craving he hadn't known he had. As he rinsed off, he wondered if it would be possible to do this more often. While sex was _definitely_ something he wanted to have with her again, washing one another touched him in another way. It was a tender act, and wanting to convey that to her, he drew her under the water and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, but her kiss was somewhat awkward. She was smiling too hard.

They dried off shortly afterwards, trading glances and small smiles as they dressed. When they emerged back into the arena, Natsume paused and released a strong, psychic energy pulse through the room. At his questioning look, she said, "I would rather not have anyone know what we did here. That is our business, not theirs."

So she was washing their residual auras from the room. That made sense enough. Yet even so, as they left the Gym and began walking down the road to their homes – they'd missed their reservation by now – doubt niggled at him. "You are not ashamed of what we did, are you?" he finally asked.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "Of course not. I'm glad we shared that."

"…What does this mean for us?" He needed to know. She said that she was happy this happened – she'd said that _this_ was all she needed –but where exactly did they go from here?

She stopped walking and turned towards him, taking his other hand into hers as well. She smiled up at him, slightly shyly, and said, "It means that we're together now, if you want us to be. It means you can touch me, or hold me, or kiss me whenever you like. It means you can come home with me and spend the night whenever you wish. And I, in turn, can do the same. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

His heart raced at the idea. He shifted their hands, squeezing hers back, and said, "Yes, that sounds – _very_ agreeable. Would it be too forward of me to stay with you tonight?" He didn't want to go back to his empty cottage. In the upcoming nights, perhaps he'd feel comfortable doing so, but tonight – tonight he wanted to be close to her. He wanted to share in the aftermath of this with her. He didn't know if he could even get to sleep without her near him….

Her eyes danced as she said, "I would be rather put out if you didn't. Besides, my bed is bigger than yours." There was a promise in her words, which she sealed with a kiss under the streetlight. He could get used to this – though he wondered if he ever really could, after one thousand more kisses….

So they went back to her home, hand-in-hand. They ordered out, wolfed down their food and washed it down with tea, and went upstairs. She was nervous as she changed into a nightgown – he could see her trembling, ever so slightly, as he stripped down to his boxers. As they slipped under the covers, he gathered her into his arms and whispered, "We could just sleep." She was still sore from earlier; he was certain of that. He didn't want to make it any worse. They could wait. He was in no hurry.

She relaxed against him. "I think I would prefer that, for now."

"Then that's how it will be," he said, running a hand down her arm. "We have time on our side."

"Mmm. That and more." She cuddled closer to him and, after a breath, asked, "You'll be here in the morning?"

He kissed her forehead, smelling the scent of the shampoo they'd both used in her hair. "Yes. I do not intend to go anywhere."

"Good," she whispered, weaving her arms around his waist. "That's good."

She drifted off before he did. He spent a while – he did not know how long – watching her sleep and wondering at the choice she'd made. She'd chosen to give up being a shrine maiden to be with him. She'd chosen _him. _For that and more, he would strive to deserve her, to be worthy of her affections and – if he dared suggest it, even to himself – her love. Whatever might happen next, he looked forward to seeing where their choices tonight would lead them. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, not quite knowing how something as hateful as a whip could have led to _this_, but thankful that it had.

* * *

**Thank You:** To _Larka_, who beta-read this ficlet for me. Thank you as well to _StarWriterWG, Kayasuri-n, ultima-owner_, and _Meneldur_ for reviewing the last ficlet! I hope you will continue to enjoy these entries and **review**! The same goes for the quieter readers out there.

**Author's Note:** You all have _no idea _how happy this ficlet makes me. From showcasing Yuè/Mewtwo's reaction to a trauma trigger, to the argument he and Natsume had, to the love scene afterwards – everything in this ficlet makes me happy. I felt like I was pushing the limit to how much emotion I could pack into my writing, so that just gets me all aflutter. At any rate, I hope you all enjoyed it too. The next ficlet will be rather _different _from my usual writing style, but I'll leave its contents a surprise. Suffice to say we'll be a getting a new face (sort of) next time. In any case, I hope to see you all next week with the update! Until next time.

Sincerely,

_WiseAbsol_


	5. Naughty Conversations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Pokémon,_ which belongs to: _Nintendo; the Pokémon Company; Creatures; GAME FREAK; TV Tokyo; ShoPro; Jr. Kikaku; Shogakukan Production Co, Ltd.; Satoshi Tajiri; _and _Ken Sugimori._ These companies and the creators rightfully own the franchise. I'm also not earning money from this; I'm merely having fun with a few of their characters.

**Ficlet Note:** This ficlet is **rated M for sexually suggestive content**. Also, as a guide to the names, Takeshi = Brock, Sakaki = Giovanni, Ibuki = Clair, and Goyō = Lucian.

* * *

**O:O:O**

**YOURS AND MINE**

**Ficlet 5 – Naughty Conversations**

**O:O:O**

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"You've been quiet all morning, Erika. Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I mean - it's just - Takeshi wants us to try something new and I'm – well, I'm not sure about it."

"When you say something new, do you mean he wishes to try out a new recipe? Usually you're open to those. Ah, wait, you're blushing. So you mean intimately, then."

"Well – yes – I mean, we've been rather – um – traditional to this point and it's been great. But now he wants to – well he wants _me_ to – and you know how he is, Natsume! He's so – _enthusiastic_ – and I'm a bit worried about what might happen if he – er – loses control."

"Isn't that part of the point? To lose control?"

"Yes, but there's not a chance of me _choking_ normally. …Hey, what do you think about this fabric?"

"It would go well with your spring kimono – you know the one. Now if _that_ is what you're concerned about, there is a simple solution."

"Really?"

"Yes. You simply take and maintain control of the situation."

"O-okay. But how do I do that?"

"Well, if he misbehaves, you can always bite him. That will reprimand him quickly enough. If you want to avoid that, though – hold this – then I recommend tying him to the bed. Eagle-spread would be best."

"Wha-what? Tie him up? Natsume, I'm not sure that's my…style."

"Perhaps not. But stepping out of your comfort zone can be rather…thrilling. I assure you, he will appreciate you taking charge. Men in general find that appealing, despite their insistence that they wish to be the dominant partners in the act. Oh, but you should make sure to use sturdy ties. Cotton would be best, as silk ones tend to come undone more easily."

"…You've done this to Yuè, haven't you?"

"I…yes, I have. It was his birthday. He always gets so dour on his birthday, so I wanted to do something nice for him. And he appreciated it – quite enthusiastically, actually. He even returned the favor shortly afterwards. Which is another thing: if Takeshi wants you to do this, then he must be willing to reciprocate. That is only fair."

"So…what was it like?"

"…Of all the experimenting Yuè and I have done, it was one of the more...gratifying…experiences. But then, Yuè is quite…."

"…You look like the cat who's eaten the canary."

"He is surprisingly delicious, my Yuè."

"Uh…_okay then._ Well, at least that explains how you've done so much more with him, despite dating him for only half the time."

"In the privacy of the bedroom, Yuè and I _are_ rather passionate people."

"Mm-hm. That perpetual hickey on your neck agrees with you there."

"Hence why I wear so many scarfs and turtlenecks. Now what do you think of this…?"

* * *

"So, how was your day with Erika?"

"Quite pleasant. We had some interesting discussions."

"…Did one of those discussions include Takeshi's recent - _request_?"

"Ah, did he mention that to you?"

"Rather often, actually. He asked me if there were any flavored substances I might recommend. Having no experience with such things, I advised him to make his own judgment and not pry into our sex life."

"Aw, poor Yuè. You sound annoyed. I advised her to tie him up, if it's any consolation."

"…You told her about-?"

"Well yes. Erika and I have no secrets from each other. If you're worried about me sharing your size, though, you needn't do so. I didn't go into specifics. Not that she wouldn't have been impressed if I had."

"Natsume…."

"I said nothing about you that wasn't a compliment. There are few people I've found as attractive as you, you know."

"There is _no one_ I've found as attractive as _you_."

"Oh? I'm flattered. Have you _seen_ some of the League representatives?"

"I have. My point stands."

"How _odd_. _Everyone_ has other people they find attractive."

"I do not deny there are other, aesthetically-pleasing humans. But I have never wanted to take one to bed as badly as you. It…somewhat _alarms_ me, how Takeshi's eyes tend to stray to any woman whose breasts are a certain size."

"But he always stays loyal to Erika. It's _normal_ to appreciate other people's looks. There's no harm in it. Even _I_ have people I'm tempted to fantasize about."

"Oh? Such as?"

"My, jealous are we? Alright. When I was younger – and forgive me for this, because I know it will give you nightmares for weeks – but I found Sakaki rather attractive, with those muscles of his. See, I knew you'd give me that look. Rest assured, I never seriously considered him. He's as old as my father, and there was just something about him that felt – off. Now I don't even find him all that handsome. There was also Ibuki, and she – well, the way she dressed left little to my imagination, so that may have been inevitable. As for the last one – well, I carried a torch for Goyō for a few years. Very bookish, gorgeous hair, and his psychic powers – yes, he could have been a good match for me."

"I see…."

"Oh, love, are you upset with me?"

"No. I do, however, feel a _pressing need_ to establish my place as first in your heart. And in your bed."

"You know you're the first in bo – oh!"

"Ah. But even so. Even so, Sakaki would have never been considerate to you. He placed his pleasures first – and scarcely gave a thought to the pleasures of others. And Goyō – he would never have gotten his nose out of his books long enough to bury it elsewhere."

"Oh – oh, Yuè, we don't – we don't have _time_-!"

"And Ibuki – heh, you like that, do you? Ibuki does not have the proper _equipment_ to please you. Even you must admit, there is no replacement for the real thing, is there?"

"Y-Yuè! We – we need to meet with – ah! Dinner, we – we have dinner to – oh _gods!"_

"We can _afford _to be late. You would not have been happy with any of them, Natsume. Not like you are with me…."

"…Oh _yes_…."

"Heh. You make such a cute face when I do this to you."

"Sh-shut up! Shut up and-"

"Mmm. As you wish, my dear."

And after that, there was no more talking.

* * *

**Thank You:** To _Larka_, who beta-read this ficlet for me. Thank you as well to _StarWriterWG_ and _Kayasuri-n_ for reviewing the last ficlet! I hope you will continue to enjoy these entries and **review**! The same goes for the quieter readers out there.

**Author's Note: **This ficlet was written as a response to a prompt from my beta, _Larka._ She wanted an all-dialogue piece, so in dread of it, I tried not to think about it – but then the first conversation, of Natsume and Erika having some girl talk while they were out shopping, sprang into my brain. The second conversation followed suit shortly afterwards. This was an interesting experiment for me, overall, given the absence of descriptions and the utter necessity of keeping each of the voices distinct. I hope you all enjoyed it, in any case! Until next time.

Sincerely,

_WiseAbsol _


End file.
